


You Don't Own Me

by Kafka_esque



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley attempts to comfort, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, They're both soft, there is mention of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kafka_esque/pseuds/Kafka_esque
Summary: Aziraphale does some growing up.





	You Don't Own Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is new territory for me, I don't have a beta, English is not my first langue, so be gentle with me. If you find mistakes, have critique or just want to be friendly, feel free to leave a comment!

They had been sharing a bed for several weeks now. What exactly these days spend together, these new touches (innocent and not so innocent) meant, went unsaid. They didn’t discuss it. Like they’d never discussed their slow building friendship for the past 6000 years. As creatures of eternity, they didn’t see the need to speed things up through a clearing conversation.

But the world had come uncomfortably close to ending, and thus reminded them painfully that every second counts. And as a result, neither had hesitated or objected when their eyes met and they both knew the kiss was going to happen. There had been a mutual understanding that it was the next logical step. 

***

Crowley likes to sleep. He had discovered its benefits rather late, but it had been a revelation, nonetheless. It relaxed him. It gave him time out. It gave him an excuse. His newfound bedmate on the other hand wasn’t very fond of it. He was sleeping now, because rolling around in bed with Crowley has to exhaust and when you’re spend, drowsy and in the arms of your favourite being, one tends to let sleep pull you away for a few hours. Still, he didn’t seek out the bed with the sole intention of sleeping. He’d rather drink tea or cacao over a good book. Lying unconscious for half a day was, in his opinion, a terrible waste of time.

So when Crowley woke up one night and found himself alone in bed, he wasn’t really surprised. A bit put out if anything. The cold spot next to him told him that the angel must have left quite some time ago. He fished his pyjama bottoms and a random shirt from the ground and put them on, not bothering with the glasses. He didn’t have to hide anything from Aziraphale anymore.

He found him on the balcony. Fully dressed, sans the cream coloured coat. No cup or book in sight. Instead, the angel was leaning on the railing, staring over a sleeping London. The way he was standing there, bowed instead of his normal rigid posture, not being busy, but seemingly brooding deep in thoughts, it was a rather solemn picture. Atypical. Somehow, the sight sobered Crowley. The demon took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped next to Aziraphale, taking in the illuminated London. Aside from a few, lonely cars nobody was outside. A dog barked in the distance. The air was fresh, but not freezing. It was almost peaceful.

Crowley suddenly felt nervous. He didn’t dare to turn his head and catch Aziraphale’s eyes. By any means, he wasn’t scared that he had corrupted him, that Aziraphale would fall or anything silly like that. But he was afraid that the angel would again try to run from him. In the past, whenever Aziraphale had denied his affection for Crowley, he could brush it off. It hadn’t been serious then, but now things had changed. And an opened heart didn’t take well to rejection.

Before Crowley managed to find the words, the other spoke, with a soft, but yet strained voice. “You know, angels are beings of love. It comes to us naturally. But”, he swallowes around the words, “I never knew that love comes with a great deal of uncertainty and fear.” His eyes flicker over to the demon at his side and fix back on the city below. He falls silent again and Crowley doesn’t dare to speak. He hasn’t a clue what to say anyway. So he just stares.

And after a few more moments, Aziraphale speaks again, even softer now. “I love you so much, it scares me.” He pauses, eyes now downcast at the railing. “I fear the power it has over me. The things I would do for you.” He chuckles without real humour. Crowley’s heart gives a throb and he curses it.

“I fear the power you have over me.” Aziraphale finally turns his head and Crowley can see these expressive blue eyes, and the tears glimmering in their corners. “I’m scared of you, Crowley.” And down goes his gaze again, this time in shame and Crowley’s heart cannot stand for it, so he crosses the distance between them and pulls Aziraphale into a crushing hug. After a second, he feels hands cling to his shirt, pulling him closer.

His face buried in blonde curls, he grits his teeth in frustration because the right words won’t come to him. Inside, he’s screaming, “I know! I know! I feel the same!” over and over again. But still, he doesn’t know how to explain, doesn’t even know for certain either. He can only guess. Why is love so great and so terrifying at the same time. So much to lose and so much to win.

And isn’t it glorious?

***

Later, when they lay in bed and Aziraphale is pressed to his side, head resting on his shoulder and Crowley rubs comforting circles into his back, he thinks he could make every empty promise to this sweet creature in his arms. He could tell him that he will never leave him, that he will never hurt him, that he would do anything for him. And nothing ever felt so wrong to Crowley. 

He’s a demon in love with an angel. An angel and a demon are in love. Sweet talk could never soothe the risk their love is taking. So he says the only sensible thing, the only right thing to answer Aziraphale’s fears. Three simple words, so overused and worn out, most don’t know what they mean anymore.  
But right here, right now, they were the only three correct words.

“I love you.”

And it earns him a smile and a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. And oh! It is glorious!

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should explain what my general idea was. I was listening to "You Don't Own Me" by Grace and that made me think about how love is scary in the way that you will sometimes give yourself up to satisfy that person. And then I thought about how Aziraphale, even though being a being of love, is experiencing romantic love for the first time, and probably has no clue how scary love can be. So the title is a homage to the idea that when you love someone, you should always remind them and yourself that you are you and you have to stay loyal to yourself first.


End file.
